American poet Wallace Stevens wrote, “The poet is the priest of the invisible.” I like that notion. The psalmist/poet in the NRSV describes an invisible God in tangible terms through the metaphors of power and might – a God who dwells on a holy mountain [a remote God] and the beauty of God’s dwelling place is terrifying, causing armies of kings to tremble in fearsome awe, yet the psalmist calls the faithful to praise Him and to consider His towers, bulwarks, and strongholds. Then, the poet/priest suddenly calls the faithful to ponder God’s steadfast love in the temple building. On one level, of course, the church where we worship, through its beauty, evokes our personal images and response – the arches in the St. Thomas’ nave call up the rib cage, the heart’s enclosure. When I sit in the nave, I know that I’m encased in God’s breast. On another level, I move to Nan Merrill’s translation – God’s holy temple is my own heart, a place where the Beloved dwells. When I ponder the Beloved’s steadfast love in the inner temple, I see . . . our cat’s loving eyes, the birds who feed in our yard, my parents who tucked me in every night, my grandmothers who made doll quilts for me, our Celtic wedding rings with twin herons entwining the ribbon of eternity, the women’s “thank you” for a hot lunch at The Sophia Way, the clergy serving the bread and wine at St. Thomas’ altar.
— Shirley E. Deffenbaugh
No comments:
Post a Comment